Meaning, Sense, and Clarity
by AllHailAugustus
Summary: Women's college Sookie takes a writing class with frat boy Eric and of course, you can't have plot without tension. AU/AH
1. Ch 1 A Good Man Is Hard to Find

**Chapter 1: A Good Man is Hard to Find**

"A good man is hard to find," Red Sammy said. "Everything is getting terrible. I remember the day you could go off and leave your screen door unlatched. Not no more."

_-_Flannery O'Connor

* * *

"Amelia!" I shouted, pounding on the bathroom door. "If you don't get your ass out, I'm peeing in the kitchen sink." I hopped from foot to foot, wiggling in my own personal version of the potty dance. "In your favorite coffee cup!"

"Don't you do it!" Amelia shrieked and threw the door open. She knew I totally would. There was no way I was going to wet myself when it wasn't even from excitement.

Amelia stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel wrapped around her slender body while she sponged off her hair with another. "You have no respect for my me time," she pouted, "and not even in the fun, sex me up in the shower kind of way."

"Poor baby." I rolled my eyes and darted past her in a mad dash to the toilet. "I'll make it up to you later."

Amelia and I had been roommates since we started college two years ago. I think she was a bit bewildered when she first met me, an emancipated sixteen year-old from a town in northwestern Louisiana so small that Googlemaps has a hard time finding it. And if she had been surprised by me, I was in awe of her. I'd never met someone so vibrant and free-thinking. Amelia had spent her gap year traveling around the world, doing everything from dancing on bars in Buenos Aires to camping out in a yurt and swigging fermented mare's milk with the locals in Mongolia. It seemed no matter where she went, Amelia was always part of the party. Always comfortable.

We were an odd couple, but we had grown close over the past two years. Neither of us had much family. All I had left was my selfish, tom-cat of a brother and all she had was a father who thought money was a suitable substitute for a phone call. We did what we could for each other and Amelia always invited me to go on vacation with her during school breaks. Her dad didn't mind paying for a friend to keep Ames company when she spent Christmas in London or Spring Break in Miami.

This was the first year we weren't living in the dorms. Instead, about a week ago, we'd moved into one of the on-campus apartments with our friend, Claudine, taking the third bedroom. The dorms had big communal bathrooms for the whole floor, so the whole 1 toilet + 1 shower + 1 door equation in the apartment wasn't coming out quite right for us yet.

Maybe we could make it into a reality show. Three girls, one bathroom. They all go in, none make it to class on time!

Okay, maybe that sounded more like porn.

Amelia was waiting outside the door for me with her arms crossed, her skin still flushed from her shower. "So giant chocolate muffin day?"

I grinned from ear to ear. Giant chocolate muffin day, also known as the first day of classes, was my favorite. Yeah, I'm a dork. "Of course. We'll go as soon as you put some clothes on."

"Actually, I was considering going _au natural_," she said, waltzing past me into the bathroom. "Maybe it will encourage less restrictive dress standards. Topless Tuesdays and No Pants Thursdays? Naked Fridays?" She rested her hip against the counter and winked. "I'd sure enjoy it."

I crinkled my nose. The last part of our summer had been spent on Majorca, and while I kept my bikini on, Amelia loved the 'nude' part of nude beaches. She'd been having withdrawals ever since we had gotten back.

We might be at a women's college, but that didn't mean everyone was comfortable about stripping down to their all together. At least not when there wasn't any booze involved.

"I'm not sure that would turn out quite the way you imagine, Ames." I couldn't help but think of Mrs. Fortenberry who ran the café. In my mind her unclothed body looked like sacks of wet sand, stacked and sagging. The image of her running the blender to make smoothies, the vibrations of the machine causing the fat of her chest and arms to ripple, was both mesmerizing and nauseating. Like watching choppy water and getting sea sick. "There are plenty of people I'd be happy to stay in the dark about." I shuddered. "Come get me when you're ready."

I could hear her laughing as I walked back to my room.

~*ΣΣ*~

I spent most of my time in the café line staring at the slate tiles under my feet rather than look anywhere near Mrs. Fortenberry. That's why I was surprised at her answer when I put in the order for my muffin.

"Oh, sweetheart, we're fresh out."

"What?" My head snapped up to her round face rimmed by frizzy brown hair. I did a quick check down and yep—fully clothed with her green apron cinched around her lumpy form—before continuing down to the glass case in front of her. No giant chocolate muffins.

"We've also got orange cranberry and banana nut. They're both very good," Mrs. Fortenberry suggested.

I frowned at the empty plate inside the glass case. There were still crumbs and chips of chocolate dusted over the white dish. Would it seem desperate if I asked if I could have it?

The other muffins did look tempting, all moist and crumbly, but spoiling my day with a baked good the size of my head didn't seem worth it if there wasn't chocolate involved.

"I'll take a Pleasantly Peachy smoothie and an iced mocha."

While Mrs. Fortenberry was bustling about with cups of fruit and ice and cappuccino, I rested my elbows on the counter and looked out the big window behind the service counter onto the patio. The café was packed with the noontime rush as girls caught up during their break between classes or for the later risers, were getting their first caffeine hit of the day. Amelia had managed to snag us a table outside under the pergola.

I picked up our drinks and made my way outside.

"Thank God." Amelia grabbed her mocha before slumping back in the metal patio chair. "Fuck it's hot," she said letting her head drop back. The sunlight cutting through the creeping vines slid over her, dappling her coral-colored polo.

"It's August." I took a long draw on my smoothie, savoring the chill of it going down. "It wouldn't be the South if you didn't feel like you were wrapped in a hot, wet blanket." The temp was already pushing 100 and god only knows what the humidity was. I bet Amelia was dying to take her clothes off.

"Ugh." She sat up, finally noticing the empty table. "No muffins?"

"Nope."

"Damn," Amelia said, fanning herself with her shirt. "I suppose you wouldn't want to try again tomorrow?"

I shook my head. It wouldn't be the same. The first day of classes is the only one when the calories don't count.

"Was it at least a good writing day?"

I sighed. I made it a habit to wake up early each morning to write. I made myself commit something to paper every day, even if it was just recounting a memory or describing an object in my room. There was always a chance that some of it could be used later. Needless to say, certain days were more productive than others. "I wrote a haiku sequence about a squirrel I saw fall into the dumpster."

"So that's a no?"

"That's a no." It was like a -2 on my productiveness scale. I was trying to finish a short story about an elderly woman who had just lost her husband to cancer. Plus, they weren't even good haikus. I kept ending up with an extra syllable in the third line. "_Love in the Dark_ came in today. Bubba e-mailed to say that he's holding it for me."

_Love in the Dark_ was the latest installment in paranormal romance book series I followed religiously. I'd pre-ordered it from Bubba, the manager of the school bookstore. He was a little on the oblivious side, but a complete sweetheart. A great combination since _Love in the Dark_ wasn't exactly the most highbrow piece of literature I'd had him order.

I'd been counting down the days till its release and the only reason I hadn't stormed the bookstore at dawn was because I knew I wouldn't have time enough to devote to it until this evening. The heroine was supposed to finally admit her feelings for the male lead in this one. Having a copy in my hands and not being able to read it was going to kill me.

Amelia clapped her hands and squealed. "What are we waiting for?" Amelia jumped up and snatched my arm. "Let's go."

"We can't take our drinks in the bookstore," I said, resisting Amelia's tugging.

She huffed. "I'd like to show up for my class not drenched in sweat, which isn't going to happen if we stay out here. Bubba loves you. Work it." She pulled me out of the chair. "Air conditioning ho!"

I let Amelia drag me across the ground floor of the student center to the little bookstore, but I made her sit outside with me till we finished our drinks. I didn't want to risk the books.

"Hey there, Miss Sookie," Bubba called when we entered, ringing the bell above the door. He came out from behind the register to greet us and give me a hug.

"I'm surprised to see you in here today. Your boyfriend said you were real busy." Bubba was in fine shape with his dark hair slicked back and his eyes bright. It really was uncanny how much he looked like Elvis.

Amelia snickered behind me as I stared blankly at Bubba. "Boyfriend?"

"Real handsome fella. He saw the book you ordered back behind the counter and said you sent him to pick it up. With classes starting and all you didn't have time to stop by." Bubba looked at me as if his description of the event would jog my memory at any moment.

I raised my eyebrows at Amelia. Some jerk stole my book.

"Really Bubba, I've no clue who that guy was, but he wasn't my boyfriend. I came in here for my book."

Bubba looked utterly bewildered for a moment, his eyes wide and unfocused, until it seemed to finally sink in that he'd been lied to. "I'm awful sorry, Miss Sookie." His shoulders sagged. "I can order you another copy if you want."

"Don't worry about it." I gave him a small smile even if I was irritated. I'd have to drive out to Barnes & Noble tonight after tennis practice. Maybe I could talk Amelia into leaving something in the oven for me. Since there was no giant chocolate muffin this morning, I'd be starving by the time I made it back tonight.

We said our goodbyes and Amelia headed off to get a good seat for her Human Sexuality class. It was always packed and the professor was a well-known hottie around campus. Amelia wanted to be up front for maximum ogling. She promised she'd snap me a picture if he dropped the chalk.

Which left me in the library, craving chocolate and a smutty book.

I took a deep breath and tapped my pen on the blank page of my writing journal.

The library always made me feel better. I loved the gothic architecture. The stone walls, vaulted ceilings, and lancet windows made the building feel like a cathedral for books. Nevertheless, there was a coziness in the giant fireplace and high-backed furniture. Reverence and intimacy all in the same place.

Curled up on the suede sofa across from me was a girl who fallen asleep, book open on her chest. She rolled over and it fell to the floor with a soft thud. I stared at the volume on the rug, letting my mind drift. Pen to paper, I started to write.

_The girl crinkled the bag of Cheetos under her fingers and snuck a glance toward the clerk. She had been lingering in the convenience store for almost half an hour, picking an item from the shelves and examining the label before carefully returning it to its place. The other passengers from her bus had finished their lunch in the adjoining McDonald's and were drifting toward the bathrooms or to the parking lot for a smoke before they had to re-board. She looked back down at the Cheetos and then to the line at the register._

"_You know there's a key to this." A hushed voice said beside her. She turned her head slightly towards him as the boy drew the snacks from her hands. He had leaned in so close that hang of his blond hair dragged over her shoulder. "If you see something you want, you take it." The boy unzipped her backpack and slipped the food in._

_He grabbed candy bar for himself and tucked it in his back pocket._

"_Then what?" she asked, pulling back to get a better look at him. He was definitely handsome, but in a boyish sort of way. Even with a dusting of stubble he gave the impression of being soft and smooth. _

_He gave her a small smile, the tight line of his lips crooking up at the ends, and strode out of the store._

_It only took her a moment to follow._

_She stood on the curb as he opened the driver side door of wood-paneled station wagon. "You coming?" he asked, resting an arm on the top of the vehicle._

_The heat of the noon sun was already drawing sweat to the surface of her skin. She sucked on her top lip. "Where you going?"_

_His shoulders lifted, that little smile still on his face. "Does it matter?" _

_The girl looked across the parking lot to where a few of the other passengers were already lumbering back on the bus. She had been a mess when she boarded in Miami. The twenty hours since then had helped settle her, but now getting back on that bus would mean picking up the problems she wanted to leave behind. It was time for something new._

_She opened the passenger side door and tossed her bag in the back before getting in. The vinyl seats burned her thighs below her cutoffs as the boy slid in and started the car. "Tulsa," she said. _

_He gave her a questioning look._

"_We're going to Tulsa." _

~*ΣΣ*~

I only had fifteen minutes between History of the English Language and Advanced Fiction Workshop. It wasn't exactly a mad dash since they were in different parts of the same building, but I wouldn't be one of the first there like was my habit.

All the fiction writing classes were held in the same classroom on the third floor, so I knew where I was going. It was one of the perks about going to such a small college.

Sophie-Anne LeClerq taught all of the fiction classes, so by the time you got to Advanced, she had a pretty solid idea of your work as a writer.

She liked to call all the Writing majors her 'fictional children' since she had us all the way through our degrees. Not that I minded. Sophie-Anne was amazing. She was a whip-cracker when you slacked off and a roadmap when you lost sense of your story.

Not to mention the fact that she had an encyclopedic knowledge of just about everything and one of the most impressive collections of hosiery I'd ever seen.

No one was talking when I walked into our classroom and it wasn't too hard to find the reason why. All the girls sitting around the big conference table where doing their damnedest to hide the fact that they were staring at him. There was a male in our class.

Slobberfest 2010 wasn't just because there was a guy in our room. We might have classes with only women all day, but that didn't mean we went ga-ga anytime a penis strolled in the room. It was more the way he looked. In a word: gorgeous.

Muscular reached out from the red polo shirt that covered his broad shoulders. The Ray-Bans he hooked on the front of his shirt only seemed to emphasize how well-developed his chest was. He was lounging back in his chair, his long legs stretched out with his feet propped up on the table, ignoring everyone while he played with his iphone. From the way he was holding the attention of the room, Apple would do well to have their next marketing campaign consist solely of this guy using their products.

He was sitting at the far end of the long conference table and the light streaming in from the windows behind him made his shoulder-length blond hair shine like filament in a light bulb. He looked every bit like a bored king on his throne and from how unfazed he was by the twelve women in the room eye-raping him, it was clear that he was used to being admired.

Not that that would keep me from telling his Majesty to get his American Eagle-covered ass out of my chair.

I slapped on my cheeriest Sookie Stackhouse smile and crossed the carpet. Standing over him, I cleared my throat. "Excuse me."

He took his sweet time pulling his focus away from his phone and once he did, the boy decided looking me over from tip to toe was the first order of business. He was so tall he barely had to look up at me, but when he did, all the sunlight from the windows made his eyes glow like electric blue marbles. It was hard to believe that color was even natural.

"Did I miss the church picnic?" he asked, snickering.

Heat flared in my cheeks and I knew I was as red as a stop light. First impressions were important, so I always tried to look nice for my first classes. I guess that was something Mr. Loungy McCasual couldn't appreciate.

Smoothing down the skirt of my white sundress, I kept my smile even if I wanted to punch him in his stupid, glow-y face.

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure you were too busy playing beer pong to attend." What? I may be a lady but I still don't take shit from anyone. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse." I held my hand out.

He seemed a little surprised by retort, but after a second he recovered and took my hand. "Eric Northman."

"Well, Eric, I was wondering if you would mind terribly moving to a different seat? This one's mine."

"Oh, really?" An eyebrow quirked up. "I didn't see your name on it."

Did we just time-warp back to fifth grade? My hands came up to settle on my hips and my eyes narrowed. This was my turf and I wasn't about to let some interloper waltz in and park his entitled derriere on my real estate. "I always sit there. Every time I have a class in this room. I would greatly appreciate it if you could sit in another chair."

Eric sank back in _my_ chair and tilted his head like he was considering.

"No."

"No?"

"Nope. You'll just have to sit next to one of these other lovely ladies." He aimed a brilliant smile at the other women in the room who had been observing our exchange. You could almost hear their hearts going all atwitter. "Or we could share." He gestured to his lap.

I dragged in a long breath as my internal pressure gauge was heading to the danger zone. I was about to go nova.

Someone grabbed my arm just before I could tell the pig exactly what I'd like to drop on his cargo-short-covered lap.

"Come sit by me, Sookie." Kenya hauled me over to a chair between her and Michele at the middle of the table. "I'd love to hear about your summer." She gestured for me to sit and after a good long scowl at the piece of furniture, I did.

Michele and Kenya did their best to keep me occupied while we waited for class to start, but they couldn't keep me from throwing glares at Eric like poisonous little darts of hate. He had gone back to his phone and was intently doing whatever it is people are always so busy doing on iphones.

Sophie-Anne swept in right on time in a dress that looked like a watercolor painting and a purple pair of latticework tights. For such a tiny woman, she never had any problem commanding the attention of a room. Sophie-Anne surveyed her kingdom, her eyes settling on Eric.

"I suppose most of you have noticed the new addition to our class for the semester. He is, after all, awfully hard to miss." She looked bemused at herself and waved a hand down the table at Eric. "Why don't you introduce yourself, Eric."

"Why of course, Sophie-Anne," he practically purred.

Somehow I kept my eyes from rolling. I don't know how, but I felt I should have gotten a reward for it. Or at least some applause.

"I'm Eric Northman and I cross-registered for this class, obviously. I'm a senior at Tech in the architecture program. This class is one of my electives." He folded his hands on the table. "Anything else?" he asked Sophie-Anne.

"Give us an interesting fact about yourself."

"I'm the head of the Phi Delta Theta house over at Tech. I'll be sure to inform you ladies of any upcoming events. Me and the boys would love to see you there." He added a bit of a smolder to his invitation. Oh yes, the panties were sizzling. I wanted to gag.

Sophie-Anne had the rest of us introduce ourselves. I didn't pay much notice and it didn't seem like Eric did either. The difference was that I already knew these people while Eric was just a self-involved jerk.

He stared across the table at me when it came around to my turn. I huffed since he was the only reason we were even doing this. "Sookie Stackhouse, junior Writing major, from Bon Temps, Louisiana. I visited Spain this summer and spent most of my time on the nude beaches."

I made eye contact with Eric, who was looking a mite glazed at my last statement. "They were fantastic."

He didn't need to know that my bikini stayed firmly fastened the whole time we were there. Eric could just suck on those visuals for a while.

After introductions were finished, Sophie-Anne went over the syllabus, which was standard fare for our workshop.

Each person would write two short stories over the course of the semester and make copies to be handed out to the rest of the class on specific dates. Everyone would make notes and write a critique to bring in to discuss the story on the day of your workshop. The stories would be revised and turned into Sophie-Anne at the end of class. There was one big difference this semester, though.

"For this class, I'll be assigning each of you a writing partner. You'll be doing several projects and presentations with them this semester. They'll also be the first person you'll go to for an opinion or with any extra writing you do," Sophie-Anne announced. "The person I pair you with is someone I feel will be a good reader for you, someone who can help you push your boundaries."

All of us were already looking around the room, eyeing each other. I was hoping for Portia or Kenya. They were both strong editors with an eye for the technical aspects of a story. Belinda would work too. She had a wonderful ear for language and was imaginative enough to go just about anywhere with a story.

As Sophie-Anne started reading off her list of pairs, it quickly became evident that "pushing your boundaries" was secret Sophie-Anne code for "will drive you crazy." She had matched the sugary, metaphor-heavy Judith with the short and gritty Jannalynn. Prudish Portia was coupled with Ginger, whose stories practically needed to come in a brown paper wrapper.

My hopes dwindled as all my preferred partners were stuck with someone they'd likely want to stab with a pencil by the end of the week. There was only one other one person left.

I desperately tried to convey the horror that I felt to Sophie-Anne with my eyes but she read off our names anyway.

"Sookie, you'll be with Eric."

Sophie-Anne finally looked up to catch my terrified puppy dog eyes. "Don't bother begging. No one is switching."

~*ΣΣ*~

I was the first one out of the room once class was over. I didn't want to give Eric a chance to talk to me.

The last part of class hadn't gone any better than the first part. Sophie-Anne had us doing an exquisite corpse, a writing exercise where everyone had a piece of paper on which they started a story. After a few lines you'd pass it on to the next person and they'd add a few lines and pass it. Repeat the process until the last person ended it.

Every time it was Eric's turn, he'd kill off everyone in the story. It made me feel sorry for Ginger who came right after him. She kept having to resurrect the characters some way or create new ones and switch the Point of View.

Shoving open the door to the women's restroom, I dumped my stuff on the couch near the entrance and went to the sinks.

I cupped my hands under the cold water and drowned my face in it. When I needed to come up for air or consider growing gills, I stood and exhaled, blowing droplets of water onto the mirror.

This was unacceptable. Sophie-Anne would just have to change her mind. I chose this college so I wouldn't have to take classes with people like Eric Northman.

After blotting my face off, I scooped up my bag. I still had to run back to my apartment to get my tennis rackets and change for practice.

I sped down the stairs and turned the corner out of the stairwell before slamming into someone, sending us both sprawling.

This was definitely not my day.

At least all of my stuff managed to stay in my bag. My human speed bump wasn't so lucky. Their stuff had scattered over the granite floor like a Jackson Pollack. I peeled my butt up and started to help them gather the pencils and paper and notebooks.

"I'm so sorry. I don't normally maul people in the halls." My hand reached for a familiar book and once I turned it over to get a good look at the cover, I couldn't help but smile. "You know, I was supposed to pick this book up today but when I went to the bookstore…"

I looked up into Eric's grinning face. "I believe that's mine." He plucked the book from my hands while I was too busy squatting on the floor, dumbfounded.

I pointed at him. "You! You stole my book!"

He pushed my pointy finger down to my side. "Seeing as I paid for it, I don't think stealing is the term you are looking for."

"You lied to Bubba and tricked him into selling you _Love in the Dark_. That's at least…" I scrambled for something that sounded both official and nefarious, "…procuring goods under fraudulent pretense."

"Isn't the phrase 'fraudulent pretense' redundant?" Eric asked shoving his mess of papers back in messenger bag. "And I never lied. I told him I was there to pick up that book up for my girlfriend, who was too busy to get it herself. Which was completely true." He shrugged. "It's not my fault he assumed you were the girlfriend in question."

My pointy finger was back and poking Eric in the chest. "Whatever, buddy. You knew that book was mine and you took it anyway because you were too lazy to drive to a bookstore and get it for this alleged 'girlfriend'." I used air quotes around "girlfriend". "Give me back my book."

Eric looked down at his chest, monumentally unamused by my choice of non-verbal communication. From the look on his face, he probably wasn't too tickled about the verbal part either.

"Listen closely, Miss Stackhouse, because I am certain if we continue on this path, you will be hearing these words quite often." He leaned down, his face right up in mine. "Hell no."

Eric turned and strode out of the building.

I gathered myself and followed him out into the scorching afternoon sun. There was no way he was getting the last word.

I barreled down the front steps right in time to hear a high-pitched squeal and watch Dawn Green launch herself at Eric. She hitched her legs around his slim waist and kissed him like she was checking for wisdom teeth.

The pair kept at it, not even noticing the passing students who hooted and whistled, either calling for the couple to get a room or cheering for Dawn to get some. I was frozen in place, gawking like a gape-toothed hillbilly.

When the two finally came up for air, Dawn became aware that I was standing there, staring at them.

"Hey, Sookie? I don't think I can make it to tennis today," she said and nipped at Eric's chin. "I feel a fever coming on."

Dawn put her feet back on the ground and hooked her arm around Eric, guiding him down the brick path toward her apartment. Eric looked over his shoulder at me, a shit-eating grin on his face. He winked as his hand traveled from Dawn's hip down to her ass, giving it a squeeze for good measure.

Thank goodness they were too busy rubbing together to walk very fast. Dawn lived on the floor above me and there was no way I was going to watch them grope each other all the way home. I breezed past the couple and held my pace until I was breathing in the sweet temperature controlled air of my own apartment.

For the first time ever, I was less than enthusiastic about going back to Fiction Workshop. Even on days when I had to pass out a story I was less than happy with or when I received critical reviews, I had never felt so…unhopeful. Those things were a part of the process, dealing with shitheads wasn't. I hated this feeling that something which had been such a big part of my life was somehow being reduced, tarnished.

It didn't help any that the person to blame was most likely dick deep in Dawn Green by now, getting his rocks off, while I had to go run wind sprints till I felt like throwing up.

If there was any doubt before, there certainly wasn't now.

I really hated Eric motherfucking Northman.


	2. Ch 2 We Didn't

**AN:** I got a few questions about what a frat is. So quick definition: A fraternity (frat) is basically an invitation only social club that is common at American colleges and universities. There are usually several different frats on any campus that has them and each frat usually has a headquarters on campus. These are often residential so members can live there(frat house).

A frat's name tends to be represented by two or three Greek letters. So for example, Eric's frat in this story is the Phi Delta Theta (ΦΔΘ) house. Usually fraternities are all male. The female equivalent is a sorority. Sorority and fraternity members are also called Greeks. If you want to know more you can go to http : / .org /wiki/ Fraternities_and_sororities . So hopefully that will help with reading the story.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Eric or Sookie or any of these other wonderful characters. I just put them in awkward situations and make them curse a lot.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: We Didn't**

_At this late hour the world seemed given over to men without women, men waiting in abject patience for something indeterminate, the way I waited for our next times. I avoided their eyes so that they wouldn't see the pity in mine, pity for them because I'd just been with you, your scent was still on my hands, and there seemed to be so much future ahead._

-Stuart Dybek

~*ΣΣ*~

I turned over on my lounge chair with a groan, pulling my sunglasses down. It was Friday afternoon and the end of our second week of classes, which meant that Claudine, Amelia, and I were all lying out by the pool at our apartment complex catching the last of the summer rays. None of us had Friday classes, but I had spent my morning waitressing so I was ready to crash; however, my restful afternoon was proving anything but.

"What are you groaning about? Pool time is a no groan zone. Only happy sounds here," Claudine said from the chair beside mine. She was stretched out on her stomach and she was so tall that her feet were dangling over the end. I felt like a chubby ant in comparison.

Amelia snickered. "Don't you know? She's got her bikini in a twist over the guy who's been face-vacuuming Dawn for the past hour."

"Do not," I grumbled.

Claudine looked over her shoulder. Dawn's apartment had a balcony that overlooked the pool just like ours did, which meant that we were getting a free showing of the Eric and Dawn Make Out Special. "So he's the one who's been riling up our Sookie." She looked over my back to Amelia, lifting her eyebrows. "How bad is it?"

"Ohhhh," Amelia cooed. "She's got it bad. She wants to hump him like a sex-deprived nymphomaniac."

I snapped upright like I had jumper cables attached to my ass. "I do not!"

So much for even tanning but it was hard to be appropriately indignant while lying down.

"I can't stand him! He pesters me all during class. He kicks me under the table. He draws on my papers when I'm not looking." I was glad there was a good amount of space between our chairs because I seemed to have lost control of arms. They were flying around everywhere. "He's a vulgar miscreant and a cad and I hate his big stupid face."

Amelia and Claudine continued to give each other that look, completely unconvinced by my tirade.

"Whatever you want to tell yourself, it's pretty clear that you'd like to ride his pony stick till you're swaybacked and saddle sore."

"Amelia!" My jaw dropped.

"Would you prefer something else? Feed the cockgoblin? Meat sweep your lady chimney? Make marry around his maypole? Drop his Alice down your rabbit hole? Let his little Viking raid your Saxon village? Go spelunking down your endless, rosy flesh cavern?"

Claudine chuckled at my stunned expression. I felt a little violated. "Have you been keeping a list of those?"

"Yeah. I can keep going if you want. You don't know how long I've been waiting to use cockgoblin in a conversation," Amelia smiled sweetly.

"Please don't." All the figurative language was making me queasy. Not to mention the idea of touching Eric outside off smacking him. Ugg.

There was one thing I was perplexed about, though. "How come when I hate someone it's because I want to have sex with them but you can hate Postmaster Eduardo and it's still just hate?"

Postmaster Eduardo was the head of our campus post office. He and Amelia had been feuding ever since her order from Fredrick's of Hollywood went missing.

Claudine looked at me sympathetically. "Because when she's around PE, she still speaks and acts like Amelia. Every time you talk about Eric you either sound like a third grader or Oscar Wilde and you act..."

"Like an immature psycho bitch. Because of the hate. Why does no one get this?" I grouched, flopping back on my chair. "I can't help it. It's like he emits radiation that turns me into evil mutant Sookie. I know I'm acting crazy but I can't seem to stop it."

I couldn't help picturing me walking into class in a hazmat suit and Eric sitting in his chair next to me glowing radioactive green. He's probably giving me brain cancer.

I rubbed my face and groaned again. Something I did a lot when I thought about him. "Oscar Wilde would totally have sex with Eric." Eric had that whole Dorian Grey beautiful on the outside/hideous on the inside thing going for him. He probably had a hideous portrait in his attic.

"If it makes you feel any better, it sounds like the crazy is mutual," Claudine said looking over at me. "I mean, he's one step from dipping your pigtails in the inkwell."

"Oh, yeah, he certainly seems affected." I glanced up at him and Dawn. "Not that it matters. I'm not having sex with him and even if I didn't hate his guts, he has a girlfriend."

"We'll see," Amelia muttered but when I turned to look at her she gave me her innocent face. "Come on, girl." She slapped my thigh and stood up. "We're going to go find you some strange. You've got to work this frustration out some way."

"Where are we going?" I asked warily. You never knew with Amelia. You were just as likely to end up at a yacht race as at a barn party in Unadilla.

She held a finger up and turned to Claudine. "Is Colman's frat still having that party?"

Claudine went all gooey-sugar-star-sprinkles like she did whenever she thought of her boyfriend, Coleman. They'd been together for two years and were still completely nauseating. "Uh-huh." She nodded. "It's to cap off their ceremony for the new pledges, so it will be a little more formal and low-key. A backyard barbeque, really."

"Seriously, Ames? A frat party? That's where you're taking me to get my mind off of this?" I'd never been to one and I wasn't in a hurry to change that.

Amelia grabbed my arm and pulled me up. Claudine managed to pull herself out of her Colman trance long enough to gather we were leaving. "If we can't get you tall, blonde, and unavailable over there, we'll at least find you a promising substitute."

When I opened my mouth to protest, Amelia put a hand up. "Frats are Mecca's for the hot, drunk, and horny of both sexes, Sookie. Trust me, if you can loosen up enough to enjoy it, you'll have a great time."

~*ΣΣ*~

It was dark by the time the three of us plus Maria-Starr, who was dating the head of Sigma Alpha, piled out of Claudine's car at Tech. Claudine's twin brother, Claude, and Coleman met us in the parking deck to escort us over.

Our little group strolled down the sidewalks of Tech's frat house row, though with the number of them, frat house village might have been a more accurate description. Several of the large residences that lined the streets were lit up with the telltale cacophony and music of a party spilling from open doors and back yards. We weren't the only one's looking to enjoy the last warmth of summer before school started kicking into high gear.

I fell into stride next to Claude at the rear of our little group. He was a male version of his sister and every bit as elfin and striking, like a manly, dark-haired Legolas. Claudine had told me that he had even modeled for romance novel covers and it wasn't too difficult to imagine him in a puffy white shirt with a half-ravished wench bent over his arm. Though given Claude's preferences, in his real life he was more likely to have a big, scruffy, flannel-wearing man clinging to him.

Too bad he also had the ability to speak, which is when most people realized that he was as affable as a mule with hemorrhoids.

"I wouldn't think this would be your kind of party, Claude," I said, looking up at his profile, heavily shadowed under the streetlights. Sure, there'd be a lot of men at a fraternity party, but they didn't exactly have a reputation for tolerance. In fact, they were known for being thick-necked, beer-guzzling womanizers. Why was I going to this party again?

"I could say the same to you." He didn't bother to look at me when he answered. "Trying to find someone to nail are you? I don't think I've ever seen you in action."

"I'm not looking to _nail_ anyone. I don't _nail_ people."

"Of course, you probably have a much nicer word for it," he answered flatly and I wondered if I could scowl hard enough at the side of his head for him to feel it. "I made a new friend who's a Phi Delta Theta." The way he said friend letting me know exactly how _friendly_ they were. "He invited me. Besides, you'd be surprised how willing to bend some of these straight boys are after a few beers."

I had stopped walking at the mention of Eric's frat, a heavy, sinking dread settling in my stomach. "We're going to the Alpha Sig party, Claude."

He turned back to look at me, his mood brightening at my discomfort. "Didn't you know? They're neighbors." He nodded at the two small mansions in front of us. We'd come to the end of the street and a white-columned Greek Revival shared the cul-de-sac with a more contemporary red brick, their Greek letters clearly displayed over the doors. "It's a joint party."

~*ΣΣ*~

Claude's friend, a guy with dark, curly hair who was cute as a button, came to claim him as soon as we entered the backyards were the party was being held, which left me with Maria-Star and my two traitorous roommates.

Both Amelia and Claudine were quick to break out their 'who me?' faces when I confronted them about tricking me into going to Eric's party. It would have been more convincing if they didn't look so pleased with themselves and then find reasons to avoid my wrath, Claudine ducking away with Colman and Amelia grabbing a guy who seemed surprised but pleased to suddenly find a hottie grinding on him.

My friends were conniving bitches, which is probably why I liked them so much. That wouldn't keep me from retaliating, though. I knew where they slept and even better, knew where they kept their shampoo. Somebody's conditioner was getting replaced with mayonnaise.

Maria-Star took my arm and steered me toward one of the houses. "Why don't I introduce you to my boyfriend." Either she felt bad for me or she was trying to keep me from going off on someone. I was feeling confrontational.

As we moved through the party, I scanned the people dancing on the lawn and those lounging around talking on the patios and felt better when I didn't spot Eric anywhere. A grill was cooking up hamburgers and people were wandering in and out of the houses with plates of food and those ubiquitous red plastic cups of cheap beer. Most of the guys were in button-down shirts in one or both of their frat's colors (purple/green for the Alphas and blue/yellow for the Phi Delts). For a low-key gathering there was quite a crowd.

I bumped into the back of Maria-Star when she froze in front of me. Her eyes had locked on a handsome black-haired fellow in green who was wedged between two over dyed, over fried blondes on one of the patio couches. The girls were giggling over the small black and white kitten dwarfed in his big, tan hands.

Maria-Star cursed under her breath and dropped my arm before power-sashaying over to the threesome.

Damn that girl could work it.

Ripped n' Swarthy was too engaged in his companions to see her coming, so needless to say his face was a picture when Maria-Star took the cat from him, straddled his lap and laid a kiss on him that might as well have stamped 'He's mine, ho-bags' onto his forehead.

They kept at it, hands fisted in hair and bodies rubbing against each other, till the sorostitutes took a walk.

I might have whistled. Just a little.

They pulled away from each other, flushed and panting.

"Alcide, this is my friend, Sookie." Maria-Star turned to me, her lips still red and puffy. "Sookie, my boyfriend, Alcide." She moved to slide of his lap, but Alcide grunted and held her firmly in place. He took another minute to settle himself before he let Maria-Star go and offered me his hand.

"Nice to meet you." He pointed to the cat after he shook my hand. "And the little guy is Mr. Dobalina."

"Mr. Bob Dobalina?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Exactly." He looked at Maria-Starr. "See, _she_ gets it."

Maria-Star shook her head and passed me the kitten, his tiny limbs trying to cling to her. I couldn't resist giving him a snuggle. He was just so fluffy.

"So, Sookie here knows Eric. From what I hear, she can't stop talking about him."

I nearly choked on Bob's fur and started coughing. That didn't keep me from trying to glare at Maria-Starr or from seeing the devious smile she was sporting.

Bitches. All my friends were bitches.

Alcide chuckled. "He tends to have that effect on people."

He got someone to pass over a beer for me and a couple of gulps got my coughing fit under control. "He's a jerk," I finally managed to rasp out. "I can't stand him."

"Yeah, he can be an ass sometimes." Alcide shrugged. "For what it's worth, he's not a bad guy. We've known each other for a long time since our fathers have done work together. Seeing as I'll be joining my dad's construction business and he's going into his dad's architectural firm, it doesn't look like the relationship is going anywhere anytime soon."

I grunted. I bet it made things a lot easier for Eric to have a bigwig daddy in the same field greasing all the wheels for him. As someone trying to make it on their own, that kind of nepotism pissed me off.

Thinking about Eric's father being an architect caused some unmade connection to click in my brain.

"Wait a minute. Is Eric's dad Sandor Northman? As in the Sandor Northman? Olympic Plaza, Symphony Center, Carlos Museum Sandor Northman?" I wanted to kick myself for not realizing why the Northman name and architecture sounded so familiar together. His father had created some of the most beautiful buildings in the city.

Alcide glanced at Maria-Star, a bemused look on his face. I guess he wasn't used to architects getting the fangirl treatment. "He planned them and Herveaux Construction built them," he said, his chest puffing out with the mention of his own company.

"He designed our library." I should know I walked past the dedication plaque often enough. "Well, I mean, he didn't design the original part, it was built in like 1910, but all the renovations and the new wings, like the courtyard and the two story reading room, were all him." I was babbling, but if it was possible to have an architectural crush, I certainly had one on Daddy Northman.

My first-year seminar had been on the local architecture and how it had changed over the years to reflect the values and culture of the city. I had done my final paper and presentation on the work of Sandor Northman, and had even visited his buildings to take pictures. Sandor might be internationally known, but he had left his biggest mark right here. Each of his buildings had its own character, but they all had the clean lines and fluid style that marked his work. He had a gift for making structures that were grand yet inviting and unpretentious. He created spaces where it felt like good things could happen.

"His work is amazing," I said, my voice coming out more breathy than I'd intended.

"Most girls go gaga over his mom." Maria-Star looked at me like I was the slow child.

"Who's his mom?"

"Isabella Northman."

That didn't ring a bell.

Maria-Star rolled her eyes. "She the CEO of Sutton's department stores. Sutton was her maiden name. Old family, big money."

I shrugged. I'd rather meet Sandor.

"The hot ones always go for the architects," Alcide grumbled, earning him a punch in the arm. "Except for you, honey." He grinned, his green eyes bright and pulled Maria-Star closer. He gave her a sweet kiss on the lips, which rapidly turned into something not so sweet.

"I think that's our cue, Bob." I cradled the kitten on my cleavage with one hand and held my beer in the other. "See you guys later," I said to the couple, though I doubt they heard.

I headed off into the crowd to hopefully make the most of this night and to avoid a certain blond, obnoxious Northman.

~#ΕΝ#~

What the fuck was Sookie Stackhouse doing at my party?

"Eric!" Pam yelled in my ear and my head snapped back toward her. I had been standing on our porch drinking beer while Pam tried to convince me that we need to serve more things with those miniature paper umbrellas since she had already purchased several cases of those tropical monstrosities, when my attention drifted and I saw _her_.

"So where are they?"

"Where are what?" I asked. I had stopped listening after Pam started talking about making regular sized umbrellas out of all the tiny ones.

"The tits you were staring at. You're like a bird dog for great racks. All I have to do to find amazing breasts is look in whichever direction your face is pointing." She stood on her tip toes and leaned toward me, trying to see what I had been looking at.

I rested back against the porch rail and rubbed a hand over my face. "The bitch is here."

Pam cackled and clapped her hands. "Fantastic. Which one is she?"

"Can't you tell? She's probably handing out 'I Hate Eric Northman' bumper stickers and trying to get people to join her letter writing campaign." I bet she had a clubhouse where she threw darts at a picture of my head.

"Stop pouting like a little girl. She probably came here so she could get drunk, fuck you, then blame it on the beer."

"Really?" I perked up at the idea.

"No, you moron. Now tell me which one she is."

"Over on the left, black dress, she's holding the Sigma's pussy."

Pam snorted. We all hated their damn cats. The Sigma Alphas always had a kitten around to use as a cheap ploy to appear sensitive and score some poon. It was like magic. Kitten magic. At the end of every spring, one of the graduates would take the old cat so they get a fluffy new kitten in the fall. It was a brilliant plan that no one else could copy without looking like dicks.

"You've got to be kidding me," Pam said next to me, shaking her head. "Sookie Stackhouse is the evil bitch harpy who's been tormenting you? What the hell did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything to her, Pam," I growled. "She's the one who's been completely unreasonable. I've only responded in kind." After our first class, Sookie tried to avoid me, sitting on the opposite side of the table and never looking in my direction. Unfortunately, Sophie-Anne insisted that we sit by our writing partners. Sookie dragged her ass over to me like someone was forcing her to go to a book burning.

I didn't get it. I'd never met a woman so unenthusiastic to be around me. I knew I looked good. I practically had to wear galoshes to get though the puddles of drool that formed wherever I went, and I could charm anyone's grandmother out of her denture cream. Women loved me. Hell, even Pam liked me. So what was wrong with Sookie Stackhouse?

Sure, I had done some things that I knew would piss her off, and whenever she made a suggestion or comment about a piece of writing in class, I made sure to argue the opposite. Our contrasting views frequently turned into a verbal tennis match with everyone's heads turning back and forth to follow the action and with Sophie-Anne looking like she was about to come in her tights.

I couldn't help it. Working up Sookie was like a compulsion. Her cheeks and lips got red and there was a fire in her eyes when she got mad. She looked amazing and I got satisfaction from knowing I could effect her like that. That I could get her to look at me.

I held my hands up. "I swear, Pam. She's the one with a grudge."

Pam eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, not buying it for a minute. "Sookie Stackhouse is a motherfucking ray of sunshine. Stop being a dick and apologize already."

"How do you even know her?" I was exasperated. Pam was supposed to take my side.

"She's a server at Java Monkey. You know, the place on Ponce with the poetry slams and live music? Half the guys go there just so they can touch themselves while she pours them coffee."

I smirked. "Does she make you want to touch yourself, Pamela?"

Pam smirked right back. "I won't have to if I can get her to do it for me."

My brain froze at the suggestion of Pam and Sookie together. Pam might be my lesbian best friend and Sookie a bitch that wanted nothing to do with me, but that didn't mean I was oblivious to how smoking hot they were. I didn't think it would actually happen, but it was definitely a mental image worth saving for later.

I turned around to look at Sookie. It seemed she had picked up a ring of admirers. Bobby, Clancy, and Jake were all trying outdo each other to get her attention. And she was smiling about it. I huffed.

"Go get those three away from her."

Pam arched her eyebrows at me. "You can't put one on lay away for when you tire of your old girlfriend, Eric."

I glared. "I'm perfectly happy with Dawn, Pam. I don't want to have to listen to Sookie complain about how my pledges slobbered all over her cleavage. Just keep our guys away from her."

Pam grinned like a cat that had been asked to guard a bowl of cream. "It'd be my pleasure," she purred and sauntered off.

I kept my distance from Pam and Sookie but I couldn't keep my eyes from slipping over to them. I was on party patrol since Pam had setup so I could see off Dawn.

Every weekend since school started, Dawn had to go out of town for a music workshop. She was a diva in the truest sense of the word seeing as she was a music major specializing in Opera. Her drive and passion was one of the things I admired about her, but it didn't mean I like being left with blue balls on the weekends. I might be a player when I'm single, but when I made a commitment to someone, I didn't cheat.

We had met over the summer at our parents' beach houses on Kiawah Island. It didn't take us long to hook up. We had both been eyeing each other every time we were on the beach together. She looked amazing. Tall and tan with a tight ass and tumbles of dark hair.

With our chemistry, it wasn't surprising that we had sheet-drenching, name-callingly good sex together. What was surprising was that when we spent time together not having sex, I actually liked her. Sure, she could be a self-centered brat sometimes, but she was also smart and confident enough to hold her own in any situation. So when she asked if I still wanted to see her when we went back to school for the fall, I agreed.

It didn't take me long to lose track of Sookie and Pam. All the pledges seemed to want a little face time with me and as the girls got drunker, it took more effort to fend them off. Other than that, things stayed pretty tame. No property damage, no fights, no public urination or vomiting. We liked to keep our parties clean, so that was one in the win column for us.

The party was winding down by the time I headed back to my room. The DJ had packed up and all the stuff that couldn't be left in the yard had been moved into the house. We'd have the pledges on cleaning duty once they got up to take care of the rest of the party debris.

My room was on the top floor at the front of the building. Our frat housed sixty-two guys (well, sixty-one guys and one Pam). Most of the regular member's rooms were double occupancy with a shared bathroom, aside from a handful of triple rooms on the ground floor and a one person handicap accessible room where Pam had lived for the last three years.

Ours was the only frat on campus that allowed female members, a holdover from when Tech first went co-ed in the 1960s, but now that the campus had sororities, there wasn't much interest. It was a good thing for Phi Delta Theta and the sororities that Pam had pick us, though. I loved having her as my second in command and I'm pretty sure some sorority girls would have never been heard from again if they had accepted her.

I stopped in front of Pam's door. Now that we were the President and Vice-President, Pam had a big individual suite right next to mine. I wanted to see if Sookie had said anything about me or if Pam had managed to remove the family of porcupines lodged in Sookie's ass.

I was about to knock when the sound of Pam's voice froze my hand mid-air.

"Oh god. Fuck. Don't stop."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Had Pam and Sookie…? They had been together all night. Is that why Sookie didn't like me?

I stood there completely still while the curses and moans continued.

Those sounds could only mean one thing, and I was growing harder and more confused by the second.

I wasn't a stranger to girl on girl action, but the fact that it was these two women had me more indecisive than I'd ever been when it came to sex.

A large part of me (probably the lower part) wanted nothing more than to see if I could join in. But there was another part that was…hurt? Spurned? Jealous? I didn't know, but that part wanted to stop their fun for a whole different reason.

Whatever my decision, I couldn't keep standing here with my fist raised in the air like a Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robot. If I didn't do something soon, I'd end up with my ear to the door and a hand down my pants. Not exactly a position I wanted to get caught in.

Finally, I walked my aching dick back to my room. I hoped that my living room would provide enough of a sound buffer for me to get some sleep tonight or at least to keep me from getting hard again. But for now, me and my hand had a date in my shower to keep.

Turns out, I even needed a repeat in the morning.


End file.
